


Awakening

by AngelsFallFirst



Category: Tarja Turunen - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2018-09-17 16:52:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9334154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelsFallFirst/pseuds/AngelsFallFirst
Summary: Tarja wakes up. Not only from coma, but also from her feigning happy life.And she wants to escape.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story puts Tarja's husband in a really awful light. If you like him, don't read. I don't like him but I'm sure he'd never hurt her so this story is to 100% made up.

'You want to leave me?? Don't you dare!'  
'No! Please stop!'  
'After everything I've done for you? You can't leave me! You owe me!'  
'Ouch! You're hurting me!! Please stop!'  
'Stop crying you filthy woman!'  
'Marcelo ... please stop hitting me ... you're... hurting ... me ...'  
'Stop wheezing and I'll stop hitting and in front of all, stop saying that you're going to leave me.'  
'Why do you do this?? Ouch ...'  
'I'll tell you, you ugly shit -'  
After that I can't remember anything else. Probably I died, back then. Now everything is white and ... I don't know. I can't see anything. If this is death, then great. I'm already bored.  
...  
Heeeelloooo. Is anybody here?  
...  
...  
...  
No answer.  
Great. I hope time at least flies fast in afterlife.  
So ... my husband killed me. Great, I hope he'll come to prison.  
Oh my God! Naomi!!  
... they'll take her away from him. I hope one of my brothers will adopt her.  
My fans!!  
They will be so sad ... what will they do without me?  
Oh no ...  
"Tarja? Tarja, wake up!"  
Yes, yes they will think I'm only asleep ...  
"Mrs Turunen!"  
Her eyes fluttered open and quickly she shut them again. She let out a groan.  
"Mrs Turunen, please nod if you hear and understand me."  
Tarja nodded.  
"Check her pulse. Her breathing is normal."  
"Yes, doctor."  
Tarja groaned again. Doctor? So she wasn't dead ... that was bad. No, that was good! For a while she had hoped that she was dead. Really.  
"Mrs Turunen, can you open your eyes?" a gentle voice asked and Tarja shook her head. "Can I call you Tarja?" The voice asked on and Tarja nodded. "Okay, Tarja. I need you to be calm now ... you fell down a stairway. You've been in comatose for a week."  
"Coma?" Tarja croaked and tried to open her eyes again. Slowly she got used to the light.  
"According to your husband you fell four floors down. You are a lucky woman, Tarja."  
"Lucky?" Tarja croaked again.  
"Your husband immediately brought you here. He was so done, we will contact him as soon as we know that you're okay."  
"Don't..." Tarja whispered and opened her eyes. The doctor looked like a typical Spanish man in his best years, his eyes laid on his beautiful and bruised patient gently.  
"Hello, Tarja. I'm doctor Martinez."  
"Don't tell my husband that I woke up!" Tarja begged, her voice still being hoarse and weak.  
"Why not? He has to know that you're okay. And so does your daughter."  
"Naomi!" Tarja breathed and tried to sit up, but without success. "I was gone for a week?? I missed two concerts!"  
"You won't go to concerts for a while," Dr Martinez said calmly but Tarja shook her head.  
"My voice! I haven't used my voice for a week! I need to be in Russia soon! Naomi! Where is my daughter??"  
"With your husband," Dr Martinez said calmly but Tarja shook her head again.  
"Take her away from him!"  
"Has he done something to her?" The doctor seemed concerned.  
"No ... no," Tarja whispered. "How do I look?"  
Dr Martinez sighed and waved one of the nurses, who came with a mirror.  
Tarja looked into it - and her stomach turned. Her face was bruised and full with scratches, her neck looked as if something - or someone - had strangled her. And she still looked like this after a week in coma? Didn't the doctors see that this were no injuries after falling down from the fourth floor? Did she really - did Marcelo push her down? He probably had, he had tried for a few times already. First he had hit her until she fainted, then he had pushed her down. Wow. And she had survived.  
"Are you alright?" the nurse asked with a gentle tone and Tarja nodded.  
"Did ...did my husband bring my phone too?" she asked carefully and the nurse nodded. She bent down, probably pulling something out of beneath the bed, and soon she gave the phone to Tarja.  
"Thanks," Tarja said and within seconds she had decided what she'd do. "Could you ... leave me alone? But don't contact my husband yet. Please."  
The nurse and the doctor shared a look and the doctor nodded.  
"Five minutes," the nurse said. "I'll get painkillers and food for you, okay?"  
Tarja nodded and smiled at them thankfully. And as soon as they were gone, she took a picture of her arm which was hanging on an IV machine. She uploaded it on Instagram with the caption:  
I'm alive! What a clumsy person I am, I've fallen down from the fourth floor. You can stop worrying about me but I'm afraid there won't be concerts for a while... I'm sorry :( #clumsy  
After posting she checked the pictures she had gotten tagged on and noticed that a new tag had spread:  
#prayforTarja  
Tarja immediately clicked on it and her eyes teared up. Over five thousand posts! Edits everywhere! Pictures of worried fans! Wow ...  
And when she went back to her post, she had gotten loads of new comments already. People told her how happy they were, how sad they had been, how worried they had been. How relieved they were. People who wished her a speedy recovery.  
Tarja smiled and shared her post on her twitter page before she put her phone away.  
Naomi ... no, Marcelo wouldn't hurt their daughter. But after all, he had hurt her too ... told her she was filthy and ugly. A bad singer. That she didn't deserve to get fucked and that, if she was smart, she'd kill herself and let it look like an accident.  
Tarja suddenly felt awful. All these months she hadn't told anyone. All these months she had tried to be different for him and all these months she had denied that he hurt her.  
Like when he had kicked her so hard into her belly that she had to get an operation. Now she was infertile because of it (she didn't care about that, though).  
But now she knew that she had to leave him. She had to. He had almost killed her ...  
So she decided to leave him - and take their daughter with them.  
Again she grabbed her phone and typed to Toni and Timo:  
We need to talk. When do you have time?

"Open your mouth, Tarja."  
The nurse put something into her mouth that started to melt immediately.  
"What's that?"  
"A painkiller. I'm sure your injuries must hurt terribly."  
"They do but ... it's not that bad. I'm used to it."  
The nurse stared at her. "What?"  
"I'm quite clumsy," Tarja said weakly. "Once I hit my head at a cupboard and was knocked out for two hours."  
"And that bruise around your neck? How did you get that?"  
"You tell me, I can't remember anything." Tarja shrugged.  
"Well ..." The nurse sat down at the edge of Tarja's bed. "It looks as if ... you tried to hang yourself."  
Now everything made sense. Marcelo had done this. He hadn't choked her, he had tried to hang her. Why had he pushed her down? He could have killed her in a much easier way ... just let her dangle from the stairway bannister. One of the neighbours would have found her after a while. Sure, he or she would have nightmares forever but since Marcelo had been at work, the case would have been clear:  
Suicide.  
Tarja Turunen had killed herself. Stress, bipolar disorders and eating disorders. Everyone knew about the three things that made her life unbearable.  
What a perfect plan, so why had he pushed her? Of course she still lived, a fall from the fourth floor was easier to survive than getting strangled while being unconscious. Tarja was confused - maybe he hadn't pushed her? Maybe she had really fallen?  
She couldn't remember what exactly had happened, maybe he had 'only' beaten her and she had really tried to kill herself? Maybe she had crawled to the stairway and with her last strength she had jumped down?  
"Mrs Turunen?" the nurse asked. "Shall we contact your husband now?"  
"Huh?" Tarja looked at the nurse in confusion before she collected herself. "Yes. Please contact him."

The door flew open with a crash.  
"Mummy!"  
"Tarja!"  
Tarja smiled weakly at her daughter, who had stopped running as she saw her mother.  
"Hey, sweetie ..."  
"You look awful," the six year old stated.  
"Well, I almost died," Tarja said, her eyes wandering to her husband.  
His face was filled with fake sorrow.  
"Hi," Tarja said and Marcelo smiled carefully.  
"Tarja ..."  
"Come here, you two," Tarja begged and they came closer. "Come, hug me ..."  
Naomi crawled onto the bed and threw her arms around her mother. "I missed you ..." she cried into her ear.  
"Now I'm back ... I'm back, baby." Then she looked at Marcelo. *Time to try my acting skills.* "Can you believe my clumsiness? Fallen down from the stairway ... I'm still curious about how I managed to do that."  
Marcelo paled slightly. "You don't know?"  
"I have no clue about what happened. That day is like completely wiped off my memory. I don't even know what I did that day."  
Marcelo didn't answer first, but then he slowly said, "I was at work."  
"Sure, where else?" Tarja said sweetly. Internally she cheered. If she continued pretending ... "Is that my phone?? My phone is ringing! Baby, please hand me my phone."  
Marcelo reached for her phone and gave it to her. Tarja quickly picked up.  
"Toni! Oh my God stop crying, little brother. I'm fine."  
"You ... how even ..." Toni was indeed crying. "You stupid woman!! I was so worried ..."  
Tarja smiled. "Hey ... it's okay. I'm here. I'm alive. Stop crying."  
"I'm just so relieved ... oh Tari, you need to talk?"  
"Yes." Tarja hesitated. "Can I call you later?"  
"Sure," Toni blew his nose. "I love you, Tarja. I love you so much ... I'm so glad I didn't lose you..."  
Tarja was surprised. He had never told her something like that! Why would he? They were siblings. "I love you too, Toni," she said softly before she hung up. "Wow... uncle Toni is pretty relieved that I'm okay, Namu."  
"We all are," Marcelo said. "Your fans, Tarja. Did you tell them already?"  
"I posted something," Tarja said. "The band will find out soon too."  
The singer eyed her husband, who looked ... guilty. Yes, he looked very guilty.  
"Are you alright?" she asked.  
"I'm - I'm just relieved," Marcelo replied. "When will you come back home?"  
"Ehm ... Dr Martinez said something about another week ..." Tarja smiled at him. "Don't worry, you can visit me every day."  
"Can I stay with you?" Naomi asked with a pout. "I missed you so much."  
"I'm afraid that won't work, sweetheart. But I promise that I'll make it quick with getting healthy."  
"Please," her daughter begged and kissed her lips. "Now sleep. You need to get better."  
"Yes," Tarja said and smiled. Marcelo had already turned around and went to the door. "Don't I get a kiss?"  
Marcelo turned around. "What?"  
"A kiss," Tarja repeated.  
Marcelo stared at her, slowly went closer to her.  
Tarja stared back at him, trying not to show her fear.  
And when Marcelo had reached her, she was sure that there was disappointment in his eyes. Marcelo pecked her lips quickly and turned around, pulling Naomi out of the room.  
Tarja fell back.  
Marcelo had tried to kill her. Marcelo was disappointed that she was still alive.  
He had hoped she'd die.  
"I'll run away," Tarja decided again. "I'll get away from you, don't you worry ..."  
And then she called Toni again.  
"Toni ... I can't tell you everything now. Just tell me if you have a place to stay for me and Namu ... when? As soon as possible... just write me a date and I'll book a flight. And tell Timo to come too. I need to tell you something."  
Without waiting for an answer she hung up.  
Now she could only hope that Toni would have time for her soon ... and if he didn't, she hoped that at least Marcelo wouldn't succeed to kill her in the meantime ...


	2. Chapter 2

*June third. Is that okay for you? I told my girlfriend that you and your daughter will stay for a while. You can take the flight that leaves at half past 9!*  
Tarja looked around, making sure that Marcelo didn't see her typing. He always wanted to know with whom she was texting, sometimes he even demanded to read the messages. And when she wrote with someone in Finnish, Marcelo would simply take the phone from her and start translating.  
*Perfect, Toni. Tarja replied. Thank you so much. You're helping me a lot. We'll be there, please pick us up when the plane arrives. DON'T ANSWER TO THIS MESSAGE!!!!! Not even to say Okay. Please, Toni. I need to get out of here... I love you.*  
After Tarja pressed send, she noted June third, 9:30 in her head and deleted the chat with her brother.  
If Marcelo saw that she had talked to him ... if he translated it ...  
He would kill her.

Tarja couldn't sleep anymore.  
After what he had done the last time, after he had almost killed her, she was sure he'd eventually do it.   
One day she moved from the bedroom to the living room but then she got scared again. If Marcelo saw that she had carried her blanket to the couch ...  
For a while she stood there, clueless about what to do, and then she carried it back to the bedroom.

She didn't sleep anymore.  
She spent the nights reading, after "making love" as Marcelo still called it, she pretended as if she was asleep. And as soon as his breathing had calmed, she pulled out her phone and read.  
And one day she started writing. Songs, poems, stories. If Marcelo would succeed to kill her, someone would find them. She wrote all of it into her songbook, Marcelo would never touch her songbook.  
But what if he did after he had killed her? He'd burn it and no one would ever find it.  
She hid the book in her daughter's room.

Tarja slept during the day. Sometimes she fell asleep while rehearsing.  
Her band was caring, they sensed her trouble and let her sleep. They sent her home when she started crying during a song. They didn't say anything as she begged them not to bring her back to her husband. They didn't say anything but respected her wish.  
They exchanged a look but didn't know what to do.

Tarja booked a flight to Finland for her and her daughter. She removed all tabs and the history; if Marcelo found out, she'd be dead in a minute. He'd stab her. Simple and fast.

June third came closer and Tarja got calmer.  
Marcelo hadn't slapped or hurt her in any way again ever since she had woken up, maybe he was afraid that someone could suspect something.  
But one day, exactly two months after she had woken up from coma, something else happened.  
Her period didn't come and she bought a pregnancy test which showed positive.   
Tarja cried, she had never cried like that in her life like she cried now, so desperate, so scared.

For days she thought about it and came to the conclusion that there were five possibilities.  
One:  
She'd have the baby and stay. Maybe Marcelo would calm down then, maybe he'd treat her better, after all he loved kids.  
Two:  
She'd have an abortion, flee and never tell anyone. She would live on and feel horrible and ashamed for killing a baby but it would have been the best.  
Three:  
She'd have an abortion, stay and tell Marcelo. This was the worst possibility of them all. He'd kill her.  
Four:  
She'd flee and have the baby. Toni would support her, and so would her father and her fans. But Marcelo would find out and seek her. And probably kill her.  
Five:  
She'd tell Marcelo - but also tell him that it wasn't his. This wasn't good either, he would force her to tell him with whom she slept, find out that she had lied and force her to have the baby and stay.

Tarja chose possibility two.  
She called the hospital and made an appointment under her unofficial name, Soile Cabuli, and got an appointment for end of May.  
She thanked the doctor and hung up, just as Marcelo entered.   
"To whom were you talking?"  
"To ... to the doctor. At the hospital." Tarja's voice was small, she was so, so afraid of her husband.  
"Why?"  
"They want to - they want another check up. Routine. I was in coma for a week."  
"When?"  
"May 27th," Tarja whispered. Her face was pale.  
Yes, she chose the right decision. She wouldn't want to raise a second child with this man.  
"Ah, okay. Should I drive you?"  
"No, it's okay," Tarja said with a smile. "Thank you."  
"No problem." Marcelo smiled back and Tarja jumped back automatically as he stepped closer.  
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close, pressing a kiss on her lips surprisingly soft.  
"I love you so much," he said and stroke her cheek. "You're everything to me, Tarja. My life. Never forget that."  
He turned around and went to the kitchen, leaving Tarja in tears.

He wanted to sleep with her that night, he always thought that telling her how much he loved her would allow him to fuck her. Tarja closed her eyes while he did so, thinking of everything that was ahead of her. The abortion. The flight to Finland.   
She'd have to divorce him.  
She'd have to tell someone ...  
Tarja faked the orgasm as always, he never stopped before she came.  
She hadn't come in years. She had already forgotten how it felt. 

Soon Tarja took the bus to the hospital.  
She had left Naomi with her nanny.  
... the nanny. What should she do with the nanny? She needed to take her with them, right??

At the hospital she switched her laptop on and booked a third ticket. She had just booked it, as the doctor came in and asked her to put the laptop away, he needed to prepare her for the operation.  
He asked her one last time if she was sure and told her that she could still say no to the abortion, but Tarja nodded.  
She was sure, to one hundred per cent.  
So they prepared her for the operation.

Tarja left the hospital two days later, feeling ...  
She couldn't describe the feeling. She was crying, she hated herself for what she had done, she hated the world... she hated Marcelo.   
And said Marcelo screamed at her as she came back, screamed the her for not telling him that she would be gone for so long.  
Tarja ignored him and strolled past him, which was a mistake.  
He grabbed her shoulder, turned her around and pushed her down.  
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?? DON'T LIE TO ME, WIFE!" he yelled.  
"At the hospital."  
"DON'T LIE!" He slapped her hard across the face.  
Tarja whimpered. "I ... I was ... at the hospital. I needed to ... recover."  
He slapped her again, but only a second later he kissed her.  
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, baby. I love you."  
Tarja opened her eyes, which were filled with tears.  
"No sex."  
"What do you mean?"  
"I'm..." Tarja's lip started quivering. "I'm not allowed to have sex for a few weeks."  
"Why?" Marcelo helped her up. "What's wrong?"  
Well, Tarja couldn't tell him that someone scraped out her uterus, right?  
"I have a sexual disease."  
"What?" Marcelo laughed. "What do you have?"  
Tarja's mind worked as fast as it could, but it was still too slow. She didn't know that many sexual diseases which she actually could have, so she chose the first best.   
"Chlamydia..."  
The words sunk in slowly and Marcelo's expression went from shocked to utterly disgusted.  
And then he grabbed her wrists, ignoring Tarja's whimper.  
"With whom -" he pressed out, "did you do it?!"  
Tarja whimpered again and shook her head. "With no one!!"  
Marcelo sighed and let go of her. "Why do you always lie to me?"  
"Marcelo, I didn't cheat on you..." Tarja sobbed and Marcelo raised a brow at her.  
And sighed again. "I believe you. Maybe I have it too ... I should get checked up."  
Tarja nodded, still sobbing. The recent abortion was still present, and then the fear of her own husband...  
'Soon, Tarja. Soon.'  
Marcelo stepped close and kissed her cheek. "Sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered and lied his lips to hers, kissing her gently. "I love you ... I know you'd never cheat. I'm sorry, baby."  
"It's okay," Tarja sobbed.  
She knew it wasn't okay. Not at all.

Marcelo made an appointment and, to Tarjas happiness, it fell on June third. He'd be gone long enough for her to flee without stress.  
She hadn't told the nanny yet, she'd tell her in the morning, soon after Marcelo had left for work. Then they'd pack their stuff and rush off, they'd be long gone when Marcelo would come back.  
The plan was perfect.  
But there was one thing she had forgotten - she had forgotten to delete the history again after booking the third flight ticket.  
And as Marcelo checked his emails, a traitorous little ad popped up.  
"Get your flight ticket cheaper?" Marcelo read and opened the ad. "Dear Mrs Turunen, thanks for booking a ticket with Air Spain - Tarja, what is this?"  
"What? Show me," Tarja said and looked at it. Internally she panicked, but she had learned to act. "Those are so annoying. Did you never get something like this before? I get it at least once a week, they know I'm flying a lot, so they're sending me coupons and stuff ... you can ignore it."  
"But it says June third. That's tomorrow. Three tickets." Marcelo looked at her.  
"Hm? That's creepy. Ignore it." Tarja shrugged it off.  
And Marcelo really ignored it. 

Tarja didn't sleep again. When Marcelo was asleep she stood up and tiptoed to Carla's bedroom, shaking her slightly.  
"Tarja?" The younger woman mumbled. "Is everything okay with Naomi?"  
"Naomi is fine, but I'm not," Tarja whispered and suddenly couldn't hold back the tears.  
And she told Carla everything, about the assault, about the abortion. And Carla told her that she had known about the assault, how couldn't she? Of course she had noticed Tarja's bruises.  
"I'll fly with you, of course," the nanny promised and hugged the singer. "I'll help you getting away from that horrible monster."

Everything seemed to go fine.  
The little family sat by the table, eating their breakfast, while Carla was packing her own and Naomi's stuff. Tarja would start packing as soon as Marcelo was out of the house.  
But then, after Naomi had left the table, Marcelo asked straight out of the blue.  
"So, you're fleeing today?"  
Tarja dropped her cutlery, staring at her husband.  
Her whole mind suddenly could oy think of one word: Fuck.  
Fuck, fuck, fuck.  
"No - what do you mean?"  
Marcelo chuckled. "You didn't really think I wouldn't find out, hm? What about deleting your searching history? Forgot that?"  
Tarja looked at her plate. "Yes," she whispered.   
"Oh, Tari. Why fleeing? Just tell me that you want to leave ..."  
"You wouldn't let me take Naomi," Tarja said and Marcelo nodded.  
"Exactly, dear. You an leave, but Namu and Carla stay with me. But what should I do without you? I need someone to fuck. Oh wait ... I'll have someone."  
Tarja's face went pale and suddenly the motherly instincts took over. Naomi! Carla! No, he wouldn't do that.  
"NO!" she yelled and jumped up, pointing at her husband. "Leave your ugly and dirty hands off them!"  
Marcelo chuckled and stood up as well. "So you'll stay?"  
"Never," Tarja hissed and gasped as his fist hit her cheek a second later.  
And then everything escalated.  
Tarja grabbed the bread knife from the table just as Marcelo knocked her down, he threw himself on her and started beating her. Tarja gave one desperate push and rolled over, jumped up.  
And there he was, his eyes widened af her.  
The knife sticking out of his stomach. "Tarja ..."  
Tarja stared down in shock, stared at the blood stain on his shirt that grew bigger and bigger.  
And suddenly two soft hands grabbed her, pushed her towards the exit.  
"Come on, come on," Carla hurried and pushed her out of the house and to the car. "Naomi is already inside. Come on, Tarja. Let's leave ..."  
"But - Marcelo ... did I kill him?!" Tarja was shocked.  
"It was self-defence!" Carla sobbed desperately. "Let's leave! Quick!"


	3. Chapter 3

The flight was quiet.  
Naomi was used to flying, so she didn't disturb the adults, who weren't saying a single word. Tarja thought that Carla kept herself and Naomi a little away from her, but in the end it was only her paranoia that told her so. That told her that Carla was afraid of her. Tarja would never hurt her or the girl.  
Finally they got out of the plane, totally exhausted and done.  
Especially Tarja.   
She went after Carla and Naomi, her head sunken down, hoping no one would notice her.  
While they stood and waited for their bags, Tarja went to the toilet. She made sure that no one was inside, then she walked straight to the mirror.  
She looked horrible.  
Eyes red, with black shadows beneath them, face pale and thin. Her cheek bones looked sharper than usual, quickly she put on sunglasses and opened her hair. It now framed her face and hid its rawboned appearance at least a bit. The scarf should hide the bruises from when Marcelo had chocked her this morning. To her dismay, he had also hit her face. It wasn't blue yet, but Tarja knew that it would grow soon.  
'I killed him.'  
Tarja stumbled to the cabins and after pulling down her jeans, she sat down on the toilet seat.  
Her thighs hurt and with horror she now looked down on her scarred, blue and red thighs. Blue from when he had hit her. Red from when he had slapped her. Scarred from when he had cut her...  
'I killed my husband.'  
Tarja started sobbing. 'No,' she then told herself. 'I won't cry. Carla is right. It was self-defence. He almost killed me! More than once! At least my fans will say the same as I, my life is more important than his. And if I come to jail ...'  
Tarja stood up, pulled her jeans back up and walked outside with her head held high. Should someone notice her. Sooner or later they would find out about her ... misdoing anyway.  
Carla was currently pulling Tarja's suitcase from the band. Shyly she smiled at the older woman, who was looking so confident all of a sudden.  
"Toni should be here already," Tarja announced and Carla nodded.  
"Let's go then. Namu?"  
"I'm here." The girl said and jumped on Carla's left.   
"Right."  
The Spanish woman seemed a little confused.  
"Hey, are you okay?" Tarja stepped forward and touched the nanny's shoulder. Carla nodded.  
"I'm... I'm a little scared. What if they ... find about about what you have done?"  
"You said it yourself, it was self defence!" Tarja whispered and Carla nodded.  
"Yes, but ... we just left him there..."  
"You pulled me away!" Tarja said energetically and Carla jumped back.  
"Okay, yes, I'm sorry," she said, grabbed her suitcase and walked away.  
"Hey!" Tarja shouted. "Come on, Naomi."  
"Don't fight!" Naomi said loudly as she ran after her mother.   
Outside the airport she immediately spotted her brother.   
Handsome as always he smiled at her and Tarja couldn't help but smile back.  
"Tar!" he called and Tarja's heart melted. She loved him so, so much.  
"Toni," she breathed and ran towards him. Hugging him tightly, she remembered all those times her brothers had helped her, no matter if it was for background vocals or for saving her from mean bullies at school.  
"How are you, sweetie?" he breathed into her ear and Tarja pulled back. She took off her sunglasses and Toni shook his head, shocked. "What happened to you?"  
Tarja shook her head as well and looked around. "Please let's go home, first. Is it okay that I brought Carla with me?"  
"Of course, you know that we have enough space."  
"Good." Tarja inhaled sharply, before she called Naomi.  
"Uncle Toni!" the girl called as she spotted the man and jumped into his arms.  
"Hey, big one!" Toni called and lifted Naomi up, placing a kiss on her cheek. "How's my princess?"  
While Toni and Naomi were blabbing, Tarja entered the car already. With a sigh she leaned her head against the window and looked outside.  
She stayed in that position during the whole drive, she didn't even listen to the songs in the radio. That was why she didn't notice how Toni switched to another channel as Alpenglow came on - as if Tarja would care!  
Besides that, she didn't even notice.  
About an hour later they had reached their destination. Toni and his fiancée Kerttu lived outside of Lohja, in a big white villa.  
Kerttu hugged Tarja and Naomi, before she introduced herself to Carla.  
They all sat down at the table and started eating their dinner - all of them besides Tarja.   
She stared out of the window, arms crossed in front of her stomach. Her face was still pale. She had done it. She had fled. But ...  
'I killed someone ...'  
"Are you okay?"  
The soft face of her sister-in-law appeared next to her and Tarja shook her head.  
"I'm not," she whispered. Her lip was quivering and Kerttu took her slim hand.  
"Please. Eat something."  
"I'm not hungry..."  
"Tarja," Kerttu sighed. "Please do me the favour." And she led the singer to the table and started feeding her. "One spoon full for Toni ... one for Namu ..."  
Tarja chuckled. "You'd be a good mum."  
Kerttu and Toni exchanged a look, but Toni shook his head almost unnoticeable. Kerttu sighed and continued feeding the singer.

Later Carla had joined the two other Finns for a glass of wine, while Tarja and Naomi were cuddling in the bed.  
"I saw you're painting the nursery room," Carla said with a smile and Kerttu gave her glass back to Toni. "How far along are you?"  
"Good, I don't have to pretend," Kerttu laughed. "I'm in the seventeenth week. It's going to be a boy."  
"Oh my God, congratulations!" Carla said happily. "How come it's not visible?"  
"I'm perfectly hiding it," Kerttu chuckled and lifted her shirt a little, rubbing the now revealed bump. "Toni asked me to, at least until Tarja feels better. And I fully understand. Now it's about Tarja, baby is going to stay in there for a longer time."  
"So, what happened to her?" Toni asked after he and Carla clinked their glasses. But the nanny shook her head.  
"That's something Tarja has to tell you herself."  
"Is Marcelo beating her?" Toni asked and Carla stared at the wine glass.  
"He was."  
"I'll kill him," he then mumbled.  
'That won't be necessary...' Carla thought.  
"I'll gladly help you," Kerttu growled. "Ugh - baby's kicking. He wants to help too."  
"Okay, when does the next flight leave?" Toni asked.  
"I don't know, let's check," Kerttu offered.  
"Let's take care about Tarja first." Carla said with a sigh. "She's not eating properly, which is understandable. After she woke up from coma -"  
"Guys," a soft voice suddenly interrupted Carla and everyone's face turned to the door. Tarja was stepping inside, clutching a big stuffed shark she had gotten from a fan. "Stop talking about me."  
"Sorry," the three mumbled and Toni stood up, offering Tarja his place on the couch.  
And Tarja sat down, closing her eyes.  
"He ... he started beating me after the Shadow tour. I wanted to start the new tour and suddenly he lost it. He accused me on making those tours on purpose so I didn't have to be near him all the time. He said I didn't love him. I didn't love Namu... he said I'm a horrible mother for letting our daughter grow up with the help of a nanny ... and then he said I couldn't even hold the same nanny for a longer time." Tarja shook her head. "Naomi had three different nannies so far, and she loved all of them. Our fight escalated, we screamed with each other, we -" Tarja sobbed, "we've never fought like that. I was crying. I ... I called him things, he called me things ... it was horrible. I was on the floor and cried and then ... I told him I'd get a divorce. And then he had enough. He called me a bitch and hit me in the face." It was quiet of a while, only Tarja's sobbing was heard. "He ... he was so sorry," she continued. "He cried. He told me he was sorry, promised me he'd never do it again. And of course I believed him, of course I did ... I kissed him and told him it was okay. He told me he loved me and that I could make the tour. So I did."  
"How come he continued hitting you?" Kerttu whispered.  
"He was drunk the first time I was at home," Tarja whispered. It was during the Christmas holidays. I was ill ... again. And he said it's my own fault. That I should start taking more breaks during the concerts. We fought again, this time a little playfully, until I noticed that he was drunk. I scolded him and he ..." Tarja didn't finish the sentence, instead she let out a desperate sob.  
"What an asshole," Toni said angrily and started pacing. "How did he beat you to coma??"  
"He pushed me down from the fourth floor," Tarja said and the two other Finns gasped.  
"And you survived?!"  
"I almost didn't, as you know," Tarja said. "I pretended as if I didn't knew about his assaulting anymore, but if course he went on. Suddenly he hated the smallest things on me. When I texted someone, he wanted to read the message. He wanted to read my new songs before I started recording them, he probably was afraid I'd ask for help through them. He was angry at me when I came home late, ... and then -" Tarja sobbed even more now. "Then I - I found out - I found out I was pregnant..."  
Toni's mouth stood open. "You're pregnant??"  
"Not - anymore," Tarja cried.  
"You lost it?" Kerttu whispered and hugged the singer, who now buried her face in her hands.  
"No, Kerttu. I - I didn't lose it..."  
Again it was quiet and Kerttu slowly let go of Tarja.   
"Oh."  
"Yes. I feel so bad but - I - I couldn't get this baby ... it was his ... it was as unwanted as it could be. I'm so sorry."  
"I understand that," Kerttu said softly and now Toni hugged his sister too.  
"Of course. Even though I think one day you'll regret -"  
"I already do," Tarja sobbed. "I killed - I killed -"  
'I killed a man and an innocent baby. I killed two human beings.' She looked at Carla and said in Spanish, "I killed him ..."  
"You don't have to say it," Carla mumbled but Tarja nodded.  
"I do have to say it. They need to know." She looked at her brother to continue in Finnish. "You need to know ..."  
"We know, we understand what you did," Toni said and squeezed Tarja's hand. But the singer shook her head.  
"No. You don't understand, not at all. I ... I killed Marcelo."  
Silence.  
Then -  
"You did ... what?" Toni asked in shock.  
"I stabbed him," Tarja sobbed. "He was on me, beating the shit out of me, and I ... I took the bread knife and stabbed him in the stomach. Last thing I saw before I ran away was the blood stain that grew bigger and bigger... I killed my husband."  
"Oh God," Kerttu whispered. "He's dead?"  
"It was self defence," Toni said. "You did the right thing, he could have killed you too."  
"But -"  
"Sh, Tari, not a word," Toni tried to calm her. "You did the right thing."  
Kerttu was close to freaking out. "Did you tell the police??"  
Tarja shook her head. "No, not yet - Kerttu, what's wrong?"  
Kerttu swallowed. "Before you came home I was watching TV," she started and grabbed the remote control, switching on the television. "I was watching the news and ... I found this." She opened the teletext and went to the page that she had seen before.  
It said:  
Spain:  
Middle aged man found stabbed in a Spanish home, wife and daughter are gone, together with their nanny. The police is looking for a Finnish woman, due to dozens of Finnish books found in their house. The man was brought to the hospital in Barcelona, he's currently fighting for life.  
"Fighting for life ..." Tarja whispered.  
"He's alive," Kerttu mumbled.  
"He's alive ..."


	4. Chapter 4

I'm walking through the house. It's dark, I hadn't dared to switch the lights on. What if he wakes up?  
It's so cold.  
My feet are naked ... my whole body is. I hadn't had the time to dress again. I'm walking into the bathroom, where I can finally switch the lights on.  
I look into the mirror and let out I sigh.  
Once I was beautiful.  
Once I had a beautiful body, now it's covered with scars and bruises. I cry as I sit down at the edge of the bathtub and touch my newest wound, the one he has caused with the lamp from the nightstand.  
He has beaten me until I lay on the floor, until I cried. I had held up my arms and he has crashed the lamp down, over and over again. My arm is blue and pulsating.  
"Ouch," I whisper and walk to the mirror closet. I open it and take the razor blade - I'm looking at it every day but I hadn't dared to use it yet. No. If I'm going to kill myself, I'll have to use something else.

Toni stared at his sister with tears in his eyes. "You wanted to kill yourself?"  
Tarja nodded softly. "Read the next page," she whispered. "But please don't read it out loud, I can't stand to hear it. Kerttu can read it later ..."  
She looked at the younger woman, who nodded in agreement. 

I'm walking towards the balcony.  
Maybe I should let myself fall down? Fallen angel ...  
I notice that I'm crying. My lower lip is bleeding, he has hit my face. I can taste my own blood as I suck my lip, it hurts so much. I won't be able to go to any concert with a face like that.  
I hold back a sob as I look at the piece of paper one last time. The piece of paper that will make it easier for the police to find out why I'm dead.  
"I killed myself" it says. "I killed myself because of my husband."  
I put the paper into my bra, I don't care about the fact I am only in my nightgown. When they find me, I'll be dead. I will never care again.  
I walk closer to the bannister, take it with my hands. I put my feet on the step and look down. We're living up in the fourth floor, was it enough to die? Maybe I should take the elevator and go to the penthouse...  
I let out another sob. Down there are so many cars, there is no chance that I'll survive.  
It's now or never.  
I crawl onto the bannister, now I'm sitting on it.  
The height is making me dizzy, even though I'm not acrophobic.  
I look down.  
Now or never.  
I close my eyes, lean forwards -  
"Mommy?"  
The voice of my daughter brings me back and I quickly crawl off the bannister again.  
"Naomi?"  
"What are you doing?"  
"What are you doing?" I ask the girl but she stares at me.  
"Did you want to jump?"  
"No, silly. Of course not."

Toni looked up again. "You know, you could bring those sheets to the police," he suggested.   
"I thought it wasn't necessary because I though that I... I succeeded to -" Tarja swallowed. "You know. Now that he's probably going to survive I will have to show this to them. Luckily I wrote everything down."  
"Luckily you're a songwriter," Toni said gently and turned to the next page. "Was this before or after you woke up?"  
"This was before. After the coma it ... it was worse. My feelings were different. I ..." Tarja swallowed again and took the book from him, looking for the page she wanted to show him. "Here," she then said, her voice shaking.

When I look at him, I'm confused. Why has he even started to hit me? Why? I'm sleeping with him almost everyday, there's no need to force me.  
I fake it again, he doesn't stop before I come. I fake it and he is happy. He let's go too, tells me how much he loves me ...  
I look away.  
I despise him.  
I lay awake at night, I'm not able to sleep anymore. What if he kills me at night? I don't want to die anymore, now I'm glad I haven't killed myself. And I'm glad I haven't died. I want to live - only without him.

"Is this where you decided to flee?"  
Tarja nodded. "I was already pregnant back then. I also wrote a story about the abortion -"  
"Really?" Kerttu whispered.  
"About how I felt after it," Tarja said quietly. "How much it hurt - both my womb and my heart. Do you want to read?"  
Toni shook his head. "What is that? You have Chlamydia?"  
"Oh, no," Tarja chuckled. "I made it up because Marcelo asked why I was gone for two days. After the abortion. And as I told him I couldn't have sex, I made up the story that I have Chlamydia. And -"  
"Wait, I'll read."

"Tarja? Are you awake?"  
I roll over and look at him. "Yes, Marcelo."  
Soon. Two more days and I'll be free.  
"It's a pity that we can't have sex."  
"Yes, true." I'm lying.  
"What if ..." he crawls closer and strokes my hair. "We haven't had anal sex in a while."  
Shit.  
Shit shit shit, I forgot about that.   
"Yes but ... I'm tired."  
"You don't need to be awake." He winks at me and my heart slowly starts to sink. If I deny, he'll beat me again.   
I turn around. "Do it." I'm whimpering. "But please take enough lube ... please ..."  
Of course he doesn't.  
I'm crying, it hurts, I'm trying to hold it back, he grabs my breasts from behind and squeezes them so hard that I start to scream. He fucks me even harder now, faster, he's close to ejaculating. And I'm close to screaming out my hatred for this man.  
Another sleepless night it is, a sleepless night I spend on the toilet, suffering from what he has done to me.

"That's more than I wanted to know about my sister," Toni mumbled but swept the crying woman in his arms only a second later. "Oh Tari. I'm so sorry. Tari, please ..."  
"I just - how did I deserve all of this? As if my life hadn't been hard enough already, I feel so ... so used. And -" Tarja was crying rivers while her younger brother held her tight, still trying to calm her.  
"I know, baby. I know. But now you're here ... with me. With us. You're safe and if he's going to look for you, we'll hide you. We'll hide you, okay?"  
"You'll never be able to hide me, everyone here knows me," Tarja sobbed. "I could go somewhere else, a place where no one knows me ... Africa. I'll go to Africa."  
"That's a nice idea, actually," Toni said gently and stroke the dark head. "Will you give concerts there with a different name?"  
Tarja slowly nodded but then she shook her head. "Ah, nonsense. What about Iceland?"  
"Works," Toni said and chuckled as he saw his sister's desperate look. "Hey. Smile. Everything is going to be good."  
And as Tarja smiled, she immediately felt better.  
Toni touched Tarja's nose. "So beautiful. Your smile."  
Tarja blushed.

"Come in," Tarja said weakly as she heard a knock at the bathroom door.  
Kerttu entered and immediately froze as she saw Tarja sitting in the bathtub, back turned to her. Her head and hair was hanging down so her whole back was visible to the younger Finn.   
It looked ... horrible.   
"Did he ... whip you?"  
Kerttu's voice was almost inaudible.   
"Just once, with a belt, but yes, really hard," Tarja said. "I think those scars will never fade."  
Kerttu came closer. She gasped slightly as she noticed the light red water.  
"Your wounds ..."  
"Some of them are not healed yet." Tarja mumbled and lifted her head.  
Kerttu swallowed and looked away. She was too thin.  
"I'm making a little midnight snack," she said. "What do you want?"  
"Nothing, really. I'm close to vomiting."  
Kerttu sat down at the edge of the tub. "I'll wash your hair," she announced and grabbed the shampoo. "And then I'll cook something."  
"Go to bed," Tarja sighed as her sister-in-law started applying the shampoo on her hair.  
"No," Kerttu said. "You're more important now."  
"Not as important as sleep is to a future mommy."  
Kerttu smiled. "So you know ..."  
"Of course. I've been pregnant too. More than once. I notice the signs."  
Kerttu said nothing, gently she massaged the shampoo into Tarja's hair.  
It was quiet for a while, until Kerttu couldn't hold it back.  
"I've read your book."  
"Oh," Tarja mumbled. "Horrible, isn't it?"  
"It's good," Kerttu said. "I admit that I forgot its truth for a while, it sounded so made up."  
"You don't believe me??"  
"Of course!" Kerttu took the shower head and switched the water on. "Lean your head back, Tarja. Listen," she said and started washing the shampoo out of Tarja's hair, "it sounds absurd that he did all of this to you. But this is perfect! You could sue him!"  
Tarja didn't answer.  
"Or you could publish the book -"  
"But I don't want anyone to know about what he did," Tarja mumbled.  
"With a pseudonym," Kerttu finished. "If you sue him you'll get money but we'll of course have to take pictures of your wounds. If you're okay with this."  
"You really want me to sue him, don't you? I just wish he could leave me in peace now ... I never want to see him again ..."  
Kerttu sighed. "Sooner or later he'll want to see Naomi. And then you'll stand in front of the court anyway - probably it's too late then."  
Tarja sighed theatrically. "Okay. Take pictures."

Dressed in underwear, Tarja positioned herself in the bedroom. "I feel like an underwear model," she joked as Kerttu took the first picture.  
"Put your arms up," Kerttu said and took another picture of Tarja's back. "Now turn - your thighs are at least as worse as your back." Five minutes later they were done and Kerttu promised to print them as fast as possible.   
"She's going to sue him," the younger woman whispered into her fiancé's ear as she came back from the photo session.  
"Good," Toni said. "I swear, I'll kill him ..."  
"Tarja should have succeeded," Kerttu mumbled, but Toni stared at her in shock.   
"Actually," he started, "I'm glad. I know Tarja and if he had died, she would hate herself forever. Also if someone had found out - Tarja Turunen, a murderer ... her fans, Kerttu."  
"I'm sure her fans would understand."  
"Yes, but they'd start being afraid of me," a weak voice said and Tarja stepped into the living room. With a small smile she took a mini spring roll and dunked it into the sweet-sour sauce. "This is yummy," she complimented Kerttu, who laughed.  
"Thanks - it's an instant meal."  
"Doesn't matter, they're good. Again about my fans, I imagine giving an autograph session and my fans would be scared ... they wouldn't dare to take pictures with me anymore, knowing that I... I killed someone ..."  
"I think," Kerttu started, "You see, Tarja, if your fans knew what you did and that you did it to save your own life - that you did it because he almost killed you for at least three times ... well, if I wasn't your sister-in-law but 'only' a fan, I'd hug you tight, tell you how much I loved you and how happy I was that you're alive. And that Marcelo deserved to ... you know."  
"You're probably right, they're really caring," Tarja said gently and took another spring roll.  
Toni and Kerttu grinned at each other - Tarja was eating.   
"So," Tarja started as she chewed. "When should I contact my lawyer?"  
Behind her, the younger couple high-fived.   
"Definitely soon," Toni then said.  
"Very soon," Kerttu threw in. "Tomorrow!"  
"As soon as it's official that Marcelo lives," Toni said and shook his head.  
"But how will we find out about that?" Kerttu mumbled and both of them looked at Tarja.   
Tarja shrugged. "Well - Carla could find out, maybe. I could send her back to the house, asking her to call me as soon as Marcelo comes back."  
Toni and Kerttu exchanged a look - both of them nodding slowly.  
Carla!


	5. Chapter 5

"Thank you so much for doing this ... I owe you so much ..." Tarja hugged the younger woman tight.  
"Don't worry, Tarja. I'm doing this for you. Really, don't worry. Okay? You'll be safe soon ..." Carla hugged her back. "Keep an eye on Naomi."  
"Of course I will, I'm her mother," Tarja said with a weak smile.  
"Carla? We're leaving!" Toni called.  
"I'll miss you. And be careful." Tarja said and the nanny nodded.  
"I will. Thanks, Tarja."  
"Carla? Do you want to miss your flight?" Toni was restless.  
"God, no," Carla called and let go of the singer.  
While Tarja looked after her daughter's nanny, doubts started to cross her mind. If it was dangerous? If Marcelo was angry, maybe he'd do the same with Carla? Beat her, rape her, ...  
No. No, he wouldn't. Tarja was sure about that. He'd never do that to their nanny, never.  
Tarja took a deep sigh and tapped back to the bedroom to catch some sleep before her daughter would wake up.

They didn't hear anything from Carla for days and after a while Tarja hoped that he had really died. This thought she immediately regretted though, she didn't want to be a murderer. Maybe she had luck and he had changed? She hoped so but doubted it.

Timo eventually also heard about his sister's return and drove all the way from Kitee to visit her. Hugging her to no end, he told her how stupid she was for not going earlier.  
"I couldn't," Tarja mumbled. "I was so afraid ..."  
"But one thing I don't get," Timo said after he let her go. "You once told me you were infertile."  
"They told me I was. After Marcelo kicked me in my abdomen... but I got pregnant anyway."  
"How?" Timo asked and Tarja shrugged.  
"Fate hates me?"  
"Fuck fate, we love you." Timo hugged his sister again.

Tarja soon noticed that her fans missed her to no end. The tag #prayforTarja got more and more pictures, now they didn't pray for her life, now they prayed for her return.  
No one knew where she was.  
Tarja followed the news about the 'stabbed man' but she, of course, never found anything about if he was alive or not. Also the 'Finnish woman' wasn't found yet, and Tarja was scared that sooner or later someone would see a connection between those two articles.  
Where is that mysterious Finnish woman and Tarja Turunen still missing.

One day Tarja thought that soon someone would notice.   
If anyone of her Spanish fans only followed the news, they already knew that the stabbed man was around 50 and that the Finnish woman was around 40 and (probably) a singer. And that they had a daughter.  
And the fact that 'Tarja Turunen was still missing', didn't make it better at all.  
So one day she took a picture of one of the photos that Kerttu had taken. It was picture of her face, bruised and pale as it had looked the night after the flight. She had thought about it but she knew - she had to tell someone.  
So she opened Instagram and posted the picture with the caption:  
Me about two weeks ago. I know you're worried about me but believe me - I'm somewhere safe. Thanks for your support. 

She had never gotten so many comments, likes and reposts.   
Tarja read them all and cried. So many of her fans knew ... or at least suspected that Marcelo had hit her. Her feed got spammed with threats about killing her husband.  
Fans told her they'd visit her, give her flowers, chocolate and wine to feel better, fans asked her to divorce her husband ... they were so, so caring. Tarja was touched.  
Soon she decided to give a concert in Lahti. She had done that many times before and the audience had always welcomed her. Also, she had to show herself to the people.

She eventually did after a week. She had gotten a date for her concert in Lahti, and after adding this date to the website, she posted a picture of herself. A selfie, where she was smiling broadly.  
I've never felt so alive, she captioned. See you soon, Lahti! Seventeenth of August to be precise. See you there!! :)  
The comments washed over her feed once again. People told her they'd buy a ticket right away, people who told her she should relax on her birthday. Tarja laughed and scrolled further. People who told her she looked stunning ...  
Tarja looked at her picture again. Her smile was looking forced, her eyes were still looking sad.  
But she looked way better than she had weeks ago.

Her band couldn't be happier that their singer was back. Max, who was currently in Helsinki, immediately drove to Lohja to see his friend and boss.  
And when he had arrived, he hugged her to no end.  
"Why didn't you tell us??" he scolded her and kissed her forehead. Tarja was stunned, everyone suddenly started showing feelings towards her. "Tarja, oh Tarja ..."  
He lifted her up and hugged her tighter. Tarja breathed.  
"Max ... it's okay, Max. Please let me down again. You're killing me."  
And Max let go of her, staring down at her. "That's not funny. You did almost die. You know, the others and I already knew that Marcelo... wasn't that nice to you. But those bruises and everything ... you always told us you ran against corners or something. You even bought new glasses because you thought that you couldn't see anything anymore. Well, that you told us ..." Max shook his head. "You lied, Tarja? For him?? I can't believe you didn't tell anyone."  
"Only Carla knew," Tarja muttered.  
"Carla. Where is she?" Max looked around and Tarja blushed.   
"She - she flew back to Spain?"  
"Back to - what if Marcelo hurts her?"  
"Marcelo still at the hospital."  
"He's not!" Max shouted and Tarja winced.   
"What? How do you know??"  
"Well -" Max pulled out his phone. "He texted me."  
"What?" Tarja whispered and took the phone.  
This is Marcelo. Do you have an idea where Tarja could be? She and Naomi are gone. I'm still at the hospital but I'm allowed to go home in two days.  
"He sent the same message to everyone. Didn't he text you?"  
"I blocked his number," Tarja muttered. "Wait - when did he send this?"  
"Mh - exactly two days ago so he's allowed to leave today."  
"I have to call Carla!" Tarja shouted.

"No, don't worry. He's not at home yet," Carla said calmly.  
"Okay ... okay ..." Tarja breathed. "Quick Carla... go somewhere. I'm scared he will hurt you."  
"Ah come on. Why would he?"  
"Carla, why did he hurt me?" Tarja ran her hand through her hair. "I'm his wife."  
"Yes but I'm his daughter's nanny. Why would he hurt me."  
"Maybe to find out where Namu and I are? Please Carla -"  
"Alright, calm down. I'll escape. Did he really text your bandmates to ask you for your stay?"  
"Yes," Tarja groaned. "Please don't talk so long, run away! He could come back any moment..."  
And just in that very moment Carla heard someone open the door. "He's back!" she whispered.  
"What did I tell you!" Tarja screamed. "Run for God's sake, run!!"  
Carla ran into her room, clenching the phone. "I'm in my room..."  
"Climb through the window. Good grace, he'll kill you ... I should have stabbed his heart."  
"Don't say that!" Carla whispered and opened the window. "Fuck ... Tarja. We're living on the fourth floor."  
"Shit." Tarja was pacing. "You need to wait until he's under the shower or anything and -" she went quiet as she heard a man call Carla's name.  
"Hello, Marcelo," Carla said calmly.  
Marcelo pointed at the phone. "Is that Tarja?"  
Tarja didn't dare to breathe.  
"No."  
"Don't lie to me."  
Carla sighed. "Okay it is. Now what? I just wanted to know how Naomi was."  
"I want to talk to her."  
"No," Carla said but Tarja whispered,  
"It's okay ... give him to me..."  
She was shaking.  
"Tarja. Baby."  
"Marcelo ..."  
"Sweetheart. You wanted to kill me?"  
"You wanted to kill me too," Tarja hissed.  
"True. So we're even?"  
Tarja thought about it. If they were even, he would leave her in peace. Right?  
"Yes, we're even."  
"Great. Now take our daughter and move your fat ass back to me."  
Tarja inhaled sharply. That was the Marcelo she certainly hadn't married.  
"No. I won't take my daughter and move my fat ass back to your preposterous, laughable, abominable little something! You're gross and I ask myself how I could ever sleep with you!" Now she was screaming. She had to tell him. "You have no right to treat me like you did. You're sickening and I wish I had succeeded to kill you. You deserve only the worst in this world so... I want a divorce and I will keep our daughter!!"  
And with those words she hung up and threw her phone against the wall in anger. Tarja didn't hear the cracking anymore, she had already sunken to the ground and screamed out in pain and sadness.   
A few minutes later, Toni came inside. He picked up her broken phone and sighed.  
"Tarja ..."  
"Leave me alone, Toni ... leave me alone ..." Tarja sobbed. "I need ..."  
"A new phone?" Toni guessed and Tarja shook her head.  
"I need help. It's too much... I'm so scared. He's back, Toni, and I know he'll find me." Her eyes were wide. "I - oh my God how stupid am I??" she then screeched. "I told him I wanted to kill him! And that I wanted a divorce!"  
"Well that's good, at least the second part," Toni said and looked at her phone. "You talked to him." Tarja nodded. "But -" Toni laughed gently, "throwing your phone against the wall didn't kill him, did it?"  
"I hope it did," Tarja groaned and looked at the wall. There was a deep and black scratch in it. "I'll paint it."  
"That's okay," Toni said gently and patted his sister's head. "So now that we know that he's alive, will you sue him?"  
"For sure," Tarja said. "Sue him and divorce him. Oh he will have to pay ..."  
"He will," Toni said. "Kerttu and I have been looking for the best lawyers and believe me, we found the best. His name is Elias Harjunpää."  
"I trust you," Tarja said and massaged her temples. "Let's hire him. He's expensive, isn't he?"  
Toni sighed softly. "Oh yes ..."

But of course they hired him anyway. After telling Elias about everything that Marcelo had done, he promised them that he would suffer. He wouldn't be able to come close to Tarja and Naomi anymore after the court was closed.  
Tarja was scared everyday. Now that Marcelo was alive, in good health and in Marbella, he could come here anytime. Right? It was just a matter of time until he found out that Tarja lived with her brother.   
And that was when she decided to flee again.  
She felt bad to leave her brother and Kerttu behind, but she didn't feel safe. And if she wasn't safe, Naomi wasn't either.  
So she told Toni during lunch that she would go home.  
"Home?" Toni almost dropped his fork. "Back to Marbella?"  
"No. To Kitee."  
Everyone at the table stared at her.  
"You'll go back to Kitee? Are you sure? Tarja -"  
"No, stop it, Toni. I'll call father and ask if Namu and I can stay."  
"But Tari, if Marcelo really looks for you he's going to go to Kitee first!"  
"No, he knows me. He knows I'm not stupid so he would never look for me in Kitee. That's why I'll go there, he won't even think of me going to Kitee."  
"Tarja..." Toni sighed. "What can I do? You've always been the most pig-headed of us all."  
"Right. I will drive tomorrow. Can I call father from your phone?"  
"Sure," Toni answered. He just hoped that his sister was right ...

And they really left.  
Toni promised to tell Tarja as soon as there was something new, like a date for the court. Or any sign of Marcelo or Tarja's lawyer.  
"Thank you, Toni. You saved my life." Tarja smiled at her brother and hugged him tight.  
"I'm just glad that you're okay," Toni mumbled. "You looked so horrible when you came here."  
Tarja smiled at him. "I'll be safe. I promise."  
Toni nodded.  
Why didn't he get rid of this feeling inside his stomach?  
Something wasn't right ... something wasn't right at all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm switching between Finland and Spain. May be confusing but what's happening in Spain is written in present tense, the rest is in past tense. Enjoy!

Kitee.  
Home, sweet home.  
Tarja breathed in the warm air of her beloved home country and smiled. She was back. She could finally start a new life ...  
She took Naomi's hand and led her to the next bus stop.  
"When will we return to Spain?" the little girl asked as they hopped on the bus and Tarja smiled sadly.  
"We won't, honey."  
"Why not? Is daddy coming after us?"  
Some people looked at them as they passed them, but quickly looked away again.  
"Yes he will," Tarja lied.  
"And Carla?"  
"Carla will come soon," Tarja lied on. She had no idea when and if Carla would return and if she was okay, even. Hopefully Marcelo hadn't done anything to her.  
On their drive to Kitee, Tarja had stopped by an electronic shop and had bought a new phone. Then she had inserted her old card and now she only had to wait until she was somewhere with Wi-Fi. And she also needed a new car. Tarja sighed as she thought of what else she needed to start a new life. A house, of course. She needed to sign her and Naomi in as new inhabitants. And Naomi needed to go to school. Tarja massaged her temples. She needed to take her daughter from the school in Spain somehow. How should she do that, just call there?  
"Mummy, what's up?" Naomi asked and a small hand touched the songstress' cheek.  
"I'm happy to be back, sweetie," Tarja said with a gentle smile.

Her father was already waiting for her.  
"Tarja, Tarja, what are you doing?" he sighed as he embraced her.  
"Just hold me, don't scold me," Tarja said with a light smile and kissed her father's cheek. "Thanks for letting us live here."  
"Everything for my princesses." He took the suitcases from his daughter and granddaughter and carried them inside. The princesses followed him.  
"How are you?" Teuvo Turunen asked after he had put the suitcases at the foot of the stairway.  
"What, how I am?" Tarja looked at him. "Like a woman who got assaulted by her husband."  
"Yes, but you managed to leave him. How are you now?"  
"Scared." Tarja sunk her voice so Naomi wouldn't hear her. But the girl was already busy with Teuvo's cat Lissi.  
"Moi, kissa!" she said and Tarja smiled at her daughter.  
"Scared that he will come here and kill me. Or take Naomi from me."  
"I'll protect you," Tarja's father said. "You know I'll protect you with my life. I've lost my wife already, now my daughter is the only precious thing I own."  
"You own me?" Tarja couldn't help but laugh.   
"You know what I mean." Teuvo pinched his daughter's nose.  
"Yeah, I get it. Thank you, really. I know you'll take care. Naomi? Come."  
Naomi followed her mother upstairs. In her old room, Tarja hung up all her clothes and walked to the bathroom. She felt way better and she also looked way better now. With a sigh she opened the mirror shelf to put her toothbrush and make up inside ... as she found something.

"Father? What is that?" Tarja looked at her father as she held the little case with injections out to him.  
"Well ... insulin," Teuvo replied.  
"Do you have diabetes?" Tarja asked quietly.  
"Yes."  
Tarja shook her head. "Father ... you have to take care of your health ... as if the osteoporosis wasn't enough already."  
"Sweetheart, you need to take care of your health. I have osteoporosis and diabetes, your mother had cancer."  
"And I am already gluten and lactose intolerant," Tarja replied sharply and then sighed. "Why didn't you just ask me? I've been living with eating disorders for more than twenty years already, I know how to handle them."  
"You never called ..."  
"Sorry, I was in coma," Tarja said. "And then I was in hospital again to abort and then -"  
"What!?"  
"What?"  
Teuvo and Tarja stared at each other.  
"Abort?" Teuvo replied. "You had an abortion?"  
"Well yes, of course," Tarja replied and then she broke together. "I - I had no idea what to do!" she sobbed. "That bastard impregnated me and I wanted to leave him ... I couldn't get the baby ... I couldn't, father!"  
"Oh Tari ..." Teuvo watched his sobbing daughter. He understood her, he understood her so well. Carefully he reached out to caress her head. "You had to do it. Of course. Don't think of it anymore, that baby wouldn't have been happy anyway."  
"Maybe ... it would have," Tarja sobbed and then wiped her eyes, looking up to her father. "And Marcelo wants to have Naomi. There'll be a court."  
"Love, if you tell the court that he beat you, they won't give Naomi to him. You have proofs, right?"  
"I have Carla, who of course noticed everything. And Kerttu took pictures of the bruises I had after I came here."  
"Good. That's enough."

I'm making my way through the dark streets of the town I'm living in. Of course compared to Buenos Aires it's way better here, not as loud and dangerous as back in Argentina. I feel safe walking through the park and through the graveyard. I stop at an empty tomb stone.  
No one's lying here so I imagine my name to be on the stone.  
Tarja Soile Susanna Turunen Cabuli  
Born August 17th 1977  
Died ...  
When would be the best time for me to die? Now?  
Died January 5th 2019.  
She had a short and not always pretty life. May she rest in peace.  
I kneel down and touch the tomb stone. There is a big stone on the grave ... I take it and knock myself over with it.

"You really did that?" Teuvo stared up from the book.  
"Yes. But there was nothing else but pain and a bruise on the back of my head. It was really nasty but the only time I didn't lie to my band mates. No wait, I did lie, I told them a book crashed down from the book shelf. Years ago they would have made fun of me but now they simply didn't say a word. I had waited for stuff like, 'Was it a lexicon that crashed down on you? Are you a Spanish pro now?' But nothing. Only sad looks."  
"They knew," Teuvo stated and Tarja nodded.  
"Of course they knew. I noticed as they treated me as if I was a baby or something ..."  
"Oh Tarja ..." Teuvo shook his head.

She is hiding from him.  
She is scared that he could find her. Use her again. He is insane. He wants to kill his wife.  
Her heart is racing while he calls for her.  
"Where are you?" he calls. She knows that he will find her, beneath the bed is not a good place to hide. "I know you're here! Come out and tell me where they are!"  
She holds her breath. She can see his feet from below the bed, he's walking into the room.  
And then he's sitting down on the bed.  
The mattress presses down on her, oh how she wished to be slimmer.  
"Is there someone under the bed?" he asks. "I think I'm sitting on someone ..."  
She tries to breathe in, tries to make herself slim, but not a chance. He looks under the bed.  
"There you are. Why are you hiding from me?"  
"Because I don't need that shit you're doing with me," she hisses and crawls from under the bed. "Why don't you just leave me alone?"  
"Carla," he says slowly. "You still didn't get it. My wife left. That means I need someone else to f-"  
"Fuck yourself, it's not that hard for men," Carla replies angrily. "But I swear, Marcelo, if you touch me again -"  
She falls silent as he pulls out a gun and points it at her. "Say it again?"  
Carla doesn't say anything.  
Since when does he own a gun? And why does it look like Tarja's gun?

"Fuck," Tarja mumbled as she went through her stuff. "Fuck, it's gone ..."  
"What is gone?" Teuvo, who had just passed Tarja's old room, asked.  
Tarja let her hand run through her hair. "My gun. I haven't needed it before but now I remembered that I wanted to pack it ... did Carla forget to pack it? Then it's still at home ... fuck ..."  
"You're allowed to fly with your gun?" Teuvo asked in shock and Tarja threw a look at him.  
"No. That's probably why no one came to ask me about it. I should have known..."  
"But you have a gun licence?" Teuvo asked on. He had never thought about his daughter to own a gun.  
"Sure I do. I bought the gun after he kicked me for the first time. I somehow felt that it would get worse. And then I asked a friend of me, a police woman, if she could teach me how to shoot. I practised shooting almost every week."  
"And you would have used it?"  
"I had it under my pillow," Tarja replied quietly. "Carla knew ... I thought she had packed it. Oh fuck, if Marcelo finds it ..."

"I knew she had this baby under her pillow," Marcelo says and caresses the barrel of the gun. "Don't worry, it's not loaded."  
"I know it's loaded," Carla says. "Tarja has told me about it -"  
"It was never loaded," Marcelo says casually. "Only in the beginning but I found it and removed the bullets. Did you really think I would have allowed her to shoot me?"  
"Instead of that she stabbed you," Carla counters. How could they have been so stupid?? Of course he had found it and removed the bullets.  
"Yes ... and I survived." Marcelo grins. "Now tell me where they are. Might be that I put the bullets inside again ..." He points at Carla again, who starts to sweat. "Or not? I can't remember. Let's try."  
He wants to pull the trigger and Carla screams.  
"No! Don't!! I'll tell you where they are!"

Tarja sighed and dialled the number. And waited ... waited ... until she finally picked up.  
"Marbella pre school, how can I help?"  
"Turunen here," Tarja said. "Mother of Naomi Turunen."  
"Oh, hi!" the principal called. "Finally you are calling! I've tried to reach you or Marcelo for days already. Is Naomi okay?"  
"Naomi is okay, Mrs Gómez. Sorry I didn't call you earlier but I took her back to Finland."  
"Oh - forever?"  
"Yes. It was a quick leave and I didn't think about taking her from school. I'm sorry."  
"It was a quick leave? Sorry for asking but why?"  
"I left my husband and decided to take my daughter with me to protect her from him."  
Short silence.  
Then - "I understand." Mrs Gómez' voice was quiet. "I'll send you a blank with which you can officially take your daughter from school. Do you still have the same mail address?"  
"Yes. I took my laptop with me." Tarja inhaled deeply. "If Marcelo asks you about me, don't tell him where I am."  
Mrs Gómez was simply shocked. Was it really that serious??  
"Of course I won't tell him, Mrs Turunen. I'm sorry about your circumstances."  
"It's okay," Tarja said quietly and tried to smile. "Send me the blank. And thank you for listening." Then she quickly hung up. And inhaled deeply.  
If Marcelo found her gun ... hopefully he wouldnt hurt anyone.  
Hopefully he wouldnt hurt Carla.

"Ladies and gentlemen, last call for the flight to Helsinki. The plane is going to leave in exactly twenty-five minutes from gate 7. I repeat -"  
He smiles as he enters the plane.  
He can't believe he is on his way there. He will see her again soon and give her what she deserves for leaving him.  
He leans back in his seat, buries the earplugs in his ears and closes his eyes while the voice of his wife is hammering into his ears.


	7. Chapter 7

Tarja woke up because of her phone buzzing. She looked at it and put it away again.  
She didn't know the number.  
But it wouldn't stop buzzing, so Tarja sighed. It wasn't Marcelo, she knew his number by heart. And if it was him calling from another phone, she'd hang up and change her number.  
But it wasn't Marcelo.   
"Hello?" Tarja mumbled. She didn't want to wake her daughter.  
"Tarja??" a hysteric voice screeched. "Tarja, are you okay??"  
Tarja stood up and left the bedroom quickly. "Is that you, Carla?"  
"Yes, it's me."  
"Oh thank God!" Tarja breathed. "He didn't do anything to you."  
"He tried," Carla said. "Oh, Tarja, you need to leave Lohja quickly!"  
"I'm not in Lohja anymore," Tarja said. "I'm in -"  
"Don't tell me!" Carla shouted. "Marcelo is on his way to Lohja. He threatened me with your gun until I told him where you were. Good that you already left."  
"Does that mean he's in Finland?" Tarja asked and started pacing. "Does that mean that Toni and Kerttu are in danger?"  
"I guess so," Carla whispered. "I'm so sorry, Tarja."  
"It's okay, he could have killed you." Tarja let her hand run through her hair. "Are you safe now?"  
"I'm safe but you aren't. He took your gun along."  
"He won't find us, Carla," said Tarja. "But I need to call Toni as quick as possible."  
"Tarja ... please take care ..." Carla sounded worried and Tarja inhaled deeply.   
She needed to handle fast. This inane man needed to get locked away.

Marcelo drove from Helsinki straight to Lohja, just as Carla had told him. Tarja was living with her younger brother, of course he had known she wouldn't find a smarter solution. They had visited him and his girlfriend a few times, how could she think he wouldn't find her there?  
He arrived after a not too long drive with the train and then took the bus to the area of Lohja where Toni and Kerttu were living.  
Then he hid himself behind the garden shed and waited.

Tarja called Toni first thing in the morning.  
"Tarja?" was Toni's confused answer as he picked up the phone. "Are you okay?"  
"Marcelo is here," Tarja answered and Toni gasped.  
"What?? In Kitee??"  
"No." Tarja hesitated. "He's in Lohja. Or on his way ... No, he must be already there. According to Carla, he flew yesterday morning."  
"Oh my ... Carla told him where you are?"  
"Where I was," Tarja corrected. "Luckily she didn't know that I already left. Marcelo threatened to kill her, so she told him. Now he's probably going to visit you. So tell him you don't know where Naomi and I went to. Okay? And if he threatens you as well ..." Tarja fell silent. She had no idea what they could do then.  
"It's okay, we'll make it," Toni calmed his sister down. "He won't hurt us. I promise."  
Tarja was shaking. "And if he does ... I'll kill him ..."  
Toni laughed. "How often have you said that already?"  
"Once I almost succeeded," Tarja replied dryly and then sighed.

He watched them twenty-four hours a day. Of course he had immediately noticed that Tarja had left already, had Carla warned her? Of course she had. He needed to punish her.  
But first he had to find out where Tarja could be.  
But they never mentioned her. It was as if she simply didn't exist. As if she never had existed.  
But where could she be? He was sure she had gone somewhere he'd never think of her - maybe she and Naomi had driven off to Lapland with new names?  
... no, that was too crazy. Even for Tarja.  
Marcelo cursed his fate. He only wanted his daughter back, nothing more! He wouldn't hurt Tarja. He would hurt her enough with taking their daughter away from her.

The days passed and Tarja never received a phone call from Toni. Was Marcelo even in Finland? What if he had only pretended to go there and in real he just made himself a nice time in Buenos Aires, visiting his sons?  
Yet Tarja paid attention to where she was going and where she entered before she felt safe.  
Truth was, she never felt safe.  
She didn't even feel safe at home, alone in her old room, where no one could see her.  
Tarja opened her laptop and continued writing.  
Despite the primary doubts she had in the beginning, she now thought that writing a book about her life was actually a really good idea.  
Lost Northern Star had over 200 pages so far, and Tarja was proud about how it had developed. She was writing in English and she enjoyed describing the things she felt during Marcelo abusing her. Of course she had changed the names a bit - Marcelo was called Pablo Fernandez and she had only used her second name so people would definitely recognise her - Soile Turunen. And that was also the name she'd use as pseudonym, Soile Turunen.

I looked into the mirror. He had hit me again and this time he had left a blue bruise on my cheek. I bit my lip as I tried to cover it. Ouch. Ouch. It hurt as hell but I succeeded to cover it.  
...  
But still they noticed.  
"Did you run against a pole?" Alex joked as soon as he saw me.  
I smiled. "Indeed. I was looking into my phone and the traffic light was in the way."  
"What a clumsy person you are," my guitarist laughed and patted my arm.

This was from the beginning. A time when Tarja hadn't minded that much yet. Hadn't thought about her husband hitting her, yet. Back then it had happened once or maybe twice a month, but then it got more and more. And Tarja was about to describe every single part of it.

One day I forgot to cover the bruise around my neck. He had choked me and I had needed hours to breathe normally again. Panicking, I wrapped my scarf around my neck. But they noticed anyway.  
"Holy shit," Max said as he saw me. "What happened to you, Soile?"  
"What?" I asked.  
"You're totally blue under that scarf. Show it to us."  
"No. That's a rash." I blushed. "That's why I'm wearing the scarf. It's pretty ugly."  
Max reached for the scarf, so I added, "and contagious."  
He froze.  
"Soile ..." Kevin said quietly. "The guys and I ... we think you're getting assaulted."  
"Assaulted?" My heart skipped a few beats. "By who?"  
"Well ..." they exchanged a look.  
"By your husband."  
"Pablo is not assaulting me," I tried to defend him. "I'm just seriously clumsy and unlucky."  
They didn't believe me, I could see that. So I sighed, grabbed my stuff and left the studio without another word.  
I didn't need their help. It was okay, it was my fault. Pablo had the right to hurt me.

Tarja was crying. All the time she had defended Marcelo in her mind, had told herself she deserved it. Her band mates had only wanted to help her, they loved her and had been deadly worried about her - but she had simply left the studio, everytime they tried to talk to her.  
They should have called the police back then.  
She wiped her tears away. She missed her guys ... if she should call them...?  
Without thinking she opened a new tab, logged in on her email account and sent a mail to Kevin.  
I'm fine. I miss you guys. Can we all meet in Lahti a day before the concert? Love you all. - T

One day the stalker had enough. He had to know where she was.  
He walked up to the house after Toni left for work and rang the doorbell.  
Kerttu opened the door and her eyes went wide.  
Quickly she closed the door again. "Go away or I'll call the police!" she screamed.  
As she opened again carefully, he was gone.  
And she called Tarja quickly.  
That was what he had wanted. He positioned himself next to the open terrace door again and listened.  
"He's here!" She was panicking. "He's here, he rang the doorbell. Are you safe, Tarja?"  
Short silence.  
"Good. He won't find out where you are. And as soon as Toni comes home, we'll call the police."  
*Fuck,* thought Marcelo. *Tell me where she is ...*

Tarja was pacing. He was here, he was really, really here ... Okay, he was far away from Kitee but it was only a question of time until he found out where she was. Tarja's hands were sweating. Where else could she go?

Marcelo gripped Tarja's gun. There he was, getting out of his car.  
He followed him on his way to the house. And as he opened the house, Marcelo pushed him inside.  
Toni, surprised about the sudden attack, fell to the floor. Marcelo closed the door.  
"Where is she?"  
"Get out of here!" Kerttu screeched and helped her boyfriend up. "Get out, I swear!"  
"Hey, I don't want to hurt you," Marcelo said and put the gun back into his pocket.  "See? I won't shoot. Only if you won't tell me where she is. And if you tell me, I won't hurt her either."  
Kerttu and Toni exchanged a look, but then they decided they didn't believe him.  
"How can we believe you that you won't hurt her? You've only hurt her so far," Toni said.  
"I don't believe you," Kerttu said bravely. "You hit her black and blue, you whipped her! I saw her back."  
"And I really regret doing this," Marcelo insisted. "But I want my daughter back. I only want to go to wherever she is and take my daughter with me."  
"And you think we will tell you? What if you hurt Naomi?" Timo glared at him.  
"I would never hurt her," Marcelo shouted and suddenly gripped the gun.  
"No one ever thought you could hurt Tarja like this," Kerttu said. "What if you rape Naomi as well?"  
"Rape my daughter?? Are you insane??" Marcelo called. "I would never - Rape Tarja??? I never raped Tarja."  
Toni and Kerttu remained quiet. What did he know and what didn't he know?  
They knew that he didn't know about the pregnancy, so they would shut their mouths about this fact.  
"I never raped her," Marcelo repeated and shook his head. "She was always okay with it."  
"Maybe she just said so," Kerttu replied carefully.  
"You make me feel like a monster!" The Argentine went on and both Kerttu and Toni didn't say a word.  
Good!  
"I only want my daughter back, that's all. Really."  
The couple exchanged another look.

"Hello...?"  
"Tarja. It's Toni."   
Tarja almost dropped her phone. "He's here, isn't he?"  
"Yes," Toni whispered. "And he says he wants Naomi back."  
"He won't get her," Tarja said calmly.  
"He says he won't hurt you if we tell you where you are."  
"No, no, don't tell him," Tarja begged.  
"We won't," Toni said quietly. "But what should we do? He's dangerous, he has a gun."  
"That's my gun," Tarja whispered and Toni's mouth went open. "Listen, I'll call the police. Okay?"  
"That'd be the best. Thanks a lot." Toni inhaled. "We'll keep him here."  
"Thanks," Tarja said and hung up, calling the police immediately. 

But as the police came, Marcelo was already gone. They hadn't been successful to keep him until they had arrived and now all they could do was giving them a picture of Marcelo. They promised to look for him.

But Marcelo was on his way to Lahti already.  
He knew that, if no one told him where Tarja was, he needed to go where she would go soon and wait for her.  
And that was Lahti.  
She would have a concert there, a concert she would never cancel. He knew that she would even sing if she was ill. Even if she got shot ...  
He caressed the gun in his pocket. He'd look for a hotel there and just stay. Stay and wait for her. He didn't need a ticket, he was Tarja's husband!  
They would let him go backstage even.


	8. Chapter 8

Tarja was shaking as she waited for final judgement. The editor shoved her glasses up and nodded again, slowly. Took another note. Tarja almost died internally. Finally the older woman looked at her.  
"This all really happened to you?" she asked and Tarja nodded.  
"Nothing here is made up."  
"I'm so sorry," Helena Lehtonen said. "Have you been to the police?"  
"Read on," Tarja said. "Everything's in the book."

"Mommy?"  
I heard the sweet but scared voice of my daughter. She knocked at the door and I quickly put the nail scissors back into the drawer. "Yes?" I called. Holy shit, I really sounded as if I had cried for days. I wiped my red eyes.  
"Are you okay?" Alexia called and I opened the door.  
"Sure, sweetie. Come in."  
The girl eyed me. "Why were you crying?"  
"I ... uh ... I read a sad book."  
But Alexia wasn't stupid.  
"Is daddy hurting you?"  
"What?" I asked and shook my head. "No. Not at all, baby. Why would he?"  
"Because you're always crying. And you shouldn't cry. You used to be so happy but then you started fighting and now you're always crying ..."  
I was touched. Of course she knew, how couldn't she. Her brown eyes were full with tears as she looked at me.  
"Mum ..."  
"Oh, Lexi," I mumbled and took my daughter into my arms. "My sweet daughter ... please never leave me."  
Alexia was crying. After she had caught me on the balcony, she never left me out of her eyes. She probably knew that I wanted to hurt myself.  
I hadn't completely closed the drawer, Alexia could still find the scissors. So I dragged her out quickly and closed the door behind us.  
Seemed as she always saved me from suicide.

Only a day later he did it again. He had come home drunk, had woken me up and started to touch me. I had defended myself, told him I had my period, he hadn't cared and forced himself on me. And into me. I had cried, had drummed my fists on his chest, had screamed at him.  
He had pressed me down, wrapped his hands around my throat and pressed hard.  
"I could easily kill you, my love," he whispered gently before he brushed his lips over mine. "Now be quiet and stop defending yourself or I'll tell everyone you've hanged yourself."  
Hang myself! That was the solution.

I had prepared everything.  
Marcelo was at work, Carla was picking Alexia up from school. It was perfect.  
The rope was dangling down the ceiling, I had wrapped it around the ceiling lamp. Now I could only hope that it worked out.  
I stepped on the chair and put the rope around my neck.  
I took a deep breath.  
If this worked out, I would be dead. Dead. No one was here to help me now.  
I made the sign of the cross, I still believed after all. Then I closed my eyes and pushed the chair away with my feet.  
I don't exactly know how it worked but - I survived.  
I landed on the floor, the rope still around my neck, but not around the lamp anymore.  
I looked up. I could have sworn I had fixed the rope good enough. Apparently not, it had fallen down with me.  
I was crying angrily, deciding not to try again. This had been a sign. God didn't want me to commit suicide.  
That was the last time I tried.

Helena Lehtonen called her a week later. She had read the whole book and told Tarja that it was ready to be published. In both English and Finnish. Tarja jumped in excitement.  
She had already found a publisher who liked her story and promised to contract her. He also wanted to use the picture that Kerttu had taken of Tarja's backside for the police and the court as cover. Tarja first had declined but then she had admitted to herself that this was a perfect shock for everyone who was reading it. First they would read the book and then they would find out that the picture on the cover was the author herself, that everything in this story had really happened.  
So Tarja agreed and after more contracts and talking, a publishing date was set:  
August 31th.  
Perfect, so Tarja thought. She didn't have to say anything during the concert in Lahti, she could smile as mysteriously as always and say "soon" once again. And this time she would mean it.  
She chuckled internally while thinking of her raging fans whenever she would mention this little word that didn't mean what her fans hoped. But this time she would mean it.

So the date of the concert came closer and she slowly forgot about the danger of Marcelo being in Finland. If he still was in Finland anyway? Tarja hadn't heard from either him nor her brother nor Carla in ages and simply reasoned that he had flown to Argentina at last. Maybe he had buried everything he felt for her.  
Also the date of the court came closer and Tarja wondered if he'd even receive the message. If he'd be angry. If he would even come.  
Tarja shook her head. Of course he would come, Kerttu had told her he wanted her daughter. He would come again and try to get her.

Tarja was able to laugh and smile again. Her life looked rosy; Marcelo was gone, whether Carla nor her relatives were in danger anymore, let alone herself. She had signed Naomi up for school in Kitee, after thinking of moving back to Kuopio or Helsinki, she had decided that both places reminded her too much of Marcelo. Surely Kitee reminded her of Nightwish - and Tuomas - but Marcelo was worse. At least for now, his actions were more present now than what Tuomas had done to her fourteen years ago.  
She didn't even remember what had been written in this letter, she had washed everything off. She felt like she had been living two lives now, one with this band called Nightwish and one in a horrible marriage. Somehow she had forgotten most of her Nightwish life thanks to her turbulent marriage.  
While she was driving to Lahti, she asked herself how she could have thought about her time in Nightwish as horrible. Had the guys ever hit her? No. Had they ever pushed her around? No. Had they verbally hurt her? Well, yes, but that had been everything. Sure Tarja had been a sensitive little girl and later an unbeatable little diva. She had cried and felt unloved until Marcelo had appeared and turned her life into a better - for the beginning - but now she honestly asked herself if it had been that bad. She had toured around with four men that had come freshly out of puberty. What else had she expected, love and acceptance? From four young Finnish men?  
Tarja shook her head, maybe it was time to contact one of them again. Maybe ... Maybe Tuomas. Marco and her were friends again, at least one of them had always been down to earth. Must have been the age. Maybe Tuomas had turned out to be reasonable after all those years.  
But Tarja didn't have the time to think about Tuomas anymore as she got out of her car in front of her band's hotel in Lahti - around twenty fans were waiting for her.  
Lead by her band mates.  
Tarja's eyes teared up as she noticed what they were holding. Banners, shields that said We love you, Tarja.  
She went closer to them.  
Kevin was the first to throw his banner away, run towards her and pull her in a bone crushing hug.  
"Tarja, Tarja ..." he whispered and kissed her hairline. "You stupid woman."  
Tarja smiled happily.

Two hours went by in which she did nothing else than talking to the members of her fanclubs who had travelled from everywhere to see her in Lahti - Germany, Sweden, Russia, even one girl from Spain was here. She received hugs, letters, gifts, kisses and many many tears.  
And when her fans moved back to their cars and hotels, Tarja was left alone with her band mates at last. She received more hugs and kisses. And then they moved to Tarja's room to just talk.

"Why haven't you told us?" Alex asked gently and took Tarja's hand. During all these years he had only loved her more and more but been too shy and scared to tell her.  
"How would you have reacted if I told you?" Tarja asked and squeezed her guitarist's hand. "If I had said, see that bruise? Marcelo hit me with a sledge?"  
"What?!" the men called.  
"He really did that??"  
"Once." Tarja sunk her eyes. And then she reached for her bag to pull the script out of it. "Guys, my book will be published in English on August 31st and in Finnish on September 5th. But you can read it, I trust you ... here."  
She gave each of them a few pages.  
They started reading and she watched their reactions, Alex covered his mouth, Kevin's eyes grew wide, Max shook his head and Christian gasped.  
"Tarja ..."  
"How even ..."  
"Tari ..."  
"I know." Tarja smiled gently. She should have told them for real.

The rehearsal was amazing. Even though they hadn't played with each other in months, they still slayed it. They had as much fun as they've always had (before Marcelo had started to assault his wife), they were still as good as they've always been. Even though Tarja hadn't trained her voice as much as in the past.  
And in the evening they went out. Cheered about their reunion.  
Got really, really drunk as well.

Tarja opened her eyes. Sun hit her face. She yawned.  
"Good morning ..."  
Tarja jumped up. Pressed the blanket against her chest. "A-Alex..."  
"Hi." Her guitarist smiled shyly.  
Tarja swallowed. "Oh my God ... Have we ... Have we -"  
Alex nodded shortly.  
"Gosh! I'm so sorry!" Tarja wrapped the blanket around her naked body.  
"What for?"  
"Did I jump at you? I must have been really needy ..."  
"Not a problem," Alex said and sighed. "Can't you remember?"  
"Not yet. Maybe I will later." Tarja groaned. "What happened?"  
"We were drunk and started making out in front of the guys," Alex answered. "And then we went upstairs."  
"Sorry," Tarja apologised again. "I haven't felt a gentle touch in a long time ..."  
"Hey," Alex answered. "I'm glad that you trusted me enough to get intimate. I swear I've only touched you gently."  
Tarja's cheeks blushed. "I can imagine..." She whispered and sunk her eyes.  
As she looked up again, the German man's eyes were travelling over her body. "You're gorgeous," he said quietly and Tarja blushed more.  
And went back into the bed, slowly pulling the blanket off herself. "Show me how gorgeous you think I am," she whispered and closed her eyes as he placed his lips on hers.

The band knew, yet no one said a word, they only grinned at them. And whistled. But no one mentioned their little affair with words.

Rehearsal. Their last rehearsal. Sound check. Tarja didn't think about it and took a picture of the guys rehearsing.  
Soon a picture floated through the internet, accompanied by the caption:  
Are you ready for me, Lahti??? My guys are getting ready. Can't wait to see you again! Wait for me at 6, there'll be a little meet and greet for those who haven't seen me yesterday. And I also have a little surprise for you ... but more about it soon. Yes! Soon ;)

Marcelo smiled. How stupid could she be? No, Tarja was a smart woman. Really smart. But so naïve ...  
She thought he was gone only because she hadn't heard from him in a month.  
He hid the gun under his hoodie, put the hood over his head and left the hotel room.  
No one would notice him. No one would even look at him. It was normal to wear a Tarja hoodie to a Tarja concert.  
He smiled again. He would finally end this hell - for both of them.


	9. Chapter 9

The applause as she entered the stage was amazing. More than anything she had ever experienced.  
Tears took her sight as screams reached her ears, she removed her earplugs and covered her mouth.  
It was like she had awoken from the dead - the applause and screams were deafening. Tarja waved to her fans, sent them kisses. She owed them so, so much.  
"I love you, I love you aaaaaall!" she shouted into her microphone and lifted her left arm, forming horns with her fingers. "Ready to rock??"  
Again a huge wave of screams threatened to rush over her, so she put the earplugs into her ears again.  
"Alright," she said as the crowd had calmed down, "I've made a really special choice of songs for you. Just enjoy. I hope you will."  
Everything went dark.  
Then the concert started. Tarja's heart was racing, what would her fans say?  
This was really special.  
Really ...  
As the music started, everyone screamed. Of course everyone knew this song, how couldn't they? Tarja lifted the microphone to her lips.  
"An angelface smiles to me, under a headline of tragedy. That smile used to give me warmth ..."  
No one had expected her to sing a Nightwish song. Especially a calm song. Especially this one. Angels Fall First ...  
But Tarja had planned something.

The surprises for Tarja's fans wouldn't stop.  
Marcelo watched their reactions, laughed about their wet eyes after Angels Fall First ended. After Swanheart started.  
And Dead Boy's Poem. Why on earth did she choose Dead Boy's Poem?

"Sorry for this depressing choice of songs," Tarja said after some minutes of calm, in which the singer drank some water. "There's actually a reason for it. It will get better, really. I guess. I can't promise anything. Truth is - I want to show you how I've felt over the last years ..."  
It was quiet. There were only a few screams that got swallowed by the big hall.  
"Alright ... so the next one you've already heard by me, but I guess it's classic. Alright, hit it, guys!"  
And the guys hit it. And Tarja sang Ever Dream with her heart and soul poured into the meaning.

Ever Dream was followed by Live To Tell The Tale, which was the first not sad song - at least not the melody.  
Tarja had chosen the song because of the text.  
"The days are filled with anxiety, frustration, one right note a day.  
Where to find a perfect tune? Just do the work and take a step back."  
No one seemed to understand ...  
"Dark chambers of my mind locked around the neck of my love.  
None of you understand and it doesn't matter to a broken marionette like me."

Tarja went backstage to change her outfit. The Nightwish era was over now, she got out of her red corset and jumped into her long, white dress. Her My Winter Storm dress.  
From this album she had chosen Sing For Me, since that song meant a lot to her. The departure from Nightwish, the whole story with Tuomas ... she thought it as fitting. Sing for me, my love ...  
The song from her next album, What Lies Beneath, was the easiest to choose. Everyone started crying as she started singing,  
"Violent hands come at midnight, pull me down, I can't make a sound ..."  
Slowly the realisation started to hit the fans. They knew something had happened to the singer, her bruises and cuts didn't happen because she was clumsy. They had guessed as she had posted the picture of her back already, but now she sung sad songs on purpose? Songs about depression, loneliness and rape. This was not a coincidence. Tarja was sitting on a little chair that Max had brought onto the stage. As the applause ended, Tarja let her microphone sink. And buried her face in her hands.  
Sobbed quietly.  
She couldn't hear the worried screams of her fans.  
Alex couldn't bear a crying Tarja and walked over to her, put her arms around her.  
"Tarja..." He pulled one of the plugs out of her ear. "Don't. You're safe. He's gone."  
Tarja hugged her guitarist. "I know ... I know ..."  
"Go on, love," Alex mumbled and Tarja opened her puffy eyes.  
"I did not hear that," she muttered and Alex smiled at her. Sadly. He knew he didn't have a single chance.  
And Tarja stood up.  
"Wow ... wow, wow, wow." She laughed quietly. "Well ... I have a confession to make. It's the surprise I told you about."  
Again the screams rose and Tarja tried to calm her fans.  
"No! I'm not going to retire. Never. And no, I'm not going to join Nightwish again. I do read the comments on my pictures. Well I ... no - drum roll, Timm ..." Tarja waited for the drum roll, "I'm going to publish a book!"  
Once again the applause was overwhelming. Tarja laughed about their faces, and when they calmed down, she went on. "It will be published on August 31st under my pseudonym Soile Turunen. So, very soon! I hope you won't be too shocked - it's pretty intense. I wrote about what happened during these last years... so it's very intimate as well. But I need to publish it. I'm not ashamed of saying it anymore. My husband raped and abused me."  
Tarja had expected screams. But it was completely quiet. If someone dropped a pin now, she'd be able to hear it.  
"I'm sure all of you suspected this already and only waited for me to confirm it. So with this book I've confirmed it already, why not telling you face to face? Marcelo -"  
"Do you want me to go on?" a sudden voice interrupted her. It sounded cynical and mad - and very, very familiar.  
Tarja jumped up.  
Marcelo was walking towards her, holding a microphone in his one hand.  
And Tarja's gun in his other hand, pointing it right at her.

Tarja stared at him.  
Marcelo stared back.  
Finally, after minutes, Tarja dared to speak up. "Marcelo..." she started and pulled the earplugs out of her ears again.  
Why wasn't the security moving?  
"Hi, you little bitch."  
"Marcelo -," Tarja said again, her voice desperate. "Put the gun away ... let's end this without violence ..."  
"We could have. But you just needed to stab me and run away."  
Gasps everywhere. Right, they hadn't known yet.  
"Yes, I stabbed you. I wish you had died," Tarja muttered into the microphone. Everyone should hear it.  
Marcelo snorted, stormed forth and slapped the singer hard across her face.  
Tarja fell off her chair and stayed at the ground, whimpering.  
Christian and Max reacted immediately by grabbing Marcelo's arms. They fought about the gun, while Alex knelt down.  
"Tarja..."  
"Alex - leave. Take the guys and leave, this is between Marcelo and me ..."  
"I'll never leave you," Alex said and the singer's heart ached. Why did he have to love her like that? "He hit you quite hard ..."  
"Nothing new," Tarja said bitterly and let the guitarist help her stand up.  
In the meantime, Christian, Max and Marcelo were still fighting.  
While the Argentine tried to pull the trigger, the band members tried to pull the gun away from his hand.  
But somehow he succeeded to press and a loud bang echoed through the hall.  
Screams, screams everywhere, and a Finnish man holding his bleeding arm.  
"Max!" Tarja screamed and pushed Alex away. "Call the ambulance! Someone call the -"  
She broke together next to Max.  
"I'm fine," he pressed out between his teeth. "Fuck ... let him get locked away forever."  
Tarja nodded and stood up.  
"Enough!" she bellowed. "Marcelo - what the hell?! Why can't you just leave me alone?!"  
"You took my daughter away from me," Marcelo answered calmly. The gun was still pointing at her. Tarja didn't see how Alex and Christian carried Max from the stage, her eyes were fixed on her husband.  
"Marcelo," she said just as calm as the Argentine. "Why do you think I took her away? After what you've done to me?"  
She looked into the crowd. So many sad and shocked faces.  
"He raped me!" she shouted and watched her fans' faces change. Angry. "Hit me!" Mad. "Tried to kill me!" Furious. They called him things, shouted and screamed.  
Tarja smiled at her fans but Marcelo wiped her smile out of her face. Literally.  
The only thing she felt now was a burning cheek and the only thing she heard was a high tune in her ears. She was lying somewhere on the stage, far away from Marcelo. How hard had he hit her?  
Tarja groaned and looked up. She was weak, her mind was turning. Marcelo walked up to her.  
The gun was pointing at her, making her able to see right into the pistol.  
She groaned again and sunk her head on the ground. She couldn't hold it up anymore. Marcelo knelt down. Where was the security? Tarja closed her eyes, ready to say goodbye to the world.  
But then.  
Then a wave of adrenaline washed over her.  
She opened her eyes, reached up and grabbed the collar of her husband with one hand, the gun with the other hand. Faster than she had ever been, she ripped the gun out of his hand and pointed it at him.  
"DO WHAT I SAY OR I'LL SHOOT!" she screamed at him. "AND THIS TIME I WON'T MISS THE RIGHT SPOT!"  
She pressed the gun against his forehead.  
Marcelo was surprised about the sudden change in the game and he was sure that Tarja was it playing. She would never shoot in front of a few hundred fans.  
But Tarja would shoot. If he tried to hurt her again.  
Slowly the tinnitus vanished and the room stopped moving around her eyes. She stood there, pointing the gun right at her husband's forehead. The Argentine himself was smiling.  
"Come on, love. Let's quit our fight."  
"You call that a fight?!" Tarja screeched. "Fight?? As in marital argument? You're a fucking swine, Marcelo. You do know that I only married you for the money, right? I wonder how I could ever touch you."  
"Oh you fucking whore," Marcelo said quietly. She was the only one who heard him and his insults. "I know you did. So did I. You're for nothing good, the only thing you can do is singing anyway. The only thing I needed you for was sex and money ... and not even the sex was satisfying. As I said - you can sing and that's it."  
Tarja felt some tears escape her eyes. Had he really hated her so much over the years? She had actually thought he had loved her ...  
The singer didn't comment on the insult. In the corner of her eyes she saw Alex, Christian and two guys of the security come closer.  
Thank God.  
Tarja smiled, she didn't have to shoot. But Marcelo would get locked away for hurting her, Carla and Max. Good ...  
Sadly Marcelo noticed the relieved look in her eyes and turned around - and saw the four men coming closer.  
"Bitch!" he screamed and pushed Tarja, pushed her hard.  
The last thing she remembered was, that she tried not to fall from the stage but failed madly.  
The last thing Marcelo saw was, that Tarja's head hit the iron barrier while falling.  
At least she had gotten what she deserved now.  
He let the security grab him and drag him from the stage. He didn't care about the crying and screaming fans, he didn't care about Alex, who had jumped from the stage to be with Tarja, to lift her up, press his ear on her chest to check if her heart was still beating.  
He didn't care about the fact that Tarja slid out of his arms like a puppet as he buried his face in his hands.  
He smiled all the way to the police car, smiled inside of the car, smiled as they pushed him into a cell.  
At least he had won.  
He had won because he was still alive.  
And the legend, the nightingale with the angelic voice -  
She wasn't.

\--- soon: epilogue ---


	10. Epilogue

"She's coming back ..."  
"Oh, finally."  
"Tarja? Tarja, can you hear me?"  
"Daddy?" Tarja mumbled. Every bone inside her body hurt, just as she had fallen from stage ... huh?  
Hadn't exactly that happened?  
Tarja eyes fluttered open but she closed them again. And groaned.  
"What happened ..."  
"Oh, Tarja ..."  
Warmth around her body. Someone was hugging her.  
"Where am I?"  
"At the hospital. You have a concussion but it's getting better already," the gentle voice of her father said. "You've slept for two days."  
"What happened?" Tarja repeated and tried to open her eyes again. This time she succeeded. "Ouch ..."  
"You fell from the stage," Teuvo said carefully. The worried faces of Alex, Kevin, Christian and Timm looked at her.  
"Right ... Marcelo threw me."  
"Your head hit the barrier," Alex said. His face was as white as a sheet of paper. "But don't worry, the police locked him away. There won't be a court, he lost every right of having custody for Naomi."  
"He admitted everything on stage, it was perfect," Kevin muttered. "He's just so sick, he didn't care that he would get locked away. He just wanted to end it, that's all."  
"He wanted to kill me," Tarja said and the five men nodded.  
"Wow. I can't believe I once defended him ..."  
"Me neither," Teuvo sighed and took his daughter's hand.  
"Where's Namu?" Tarja suddenly asked and Teuvo smiled.  
"Don't worry, she's healthy and happy. Well not exactly happy, she's worrying about her mother ... but she's alright. She's with Carla and Max right now."  
"Max!" Tarja gasped. "Marcelo shot him -!"  
"He shot his right arm," Alex said. "But he's alright, he has a wound but the bullet didn't affect anything. He won't be able to move the arm for a few weeks. But there won't be permanent damages and he'll be able to play cello again soon."  
Tarja closed her eyes. Everything because of her. Sometimes she thought of what would have happened if she has succeeded to kill Marcelo weeks ago. How her life would be now. But truth be told, no matter how often she said that she wished she had killed him: she was glad she hadn't. Also at the concert, she wouldn't have been able to shoot him. Never. She would have shot his arm or leg to take revenge for Max, but shoot his heart? His stomach? His head?  
Never.  
Tarja exhaled quietly and opened her eyes. "Am I still in Lahti?"  
"Yes," Alex said and suddenly his face lit up. "We have a surprise for you! This will make your heart melt."  
Tarja watched the guitarist walk to the window and open it. And heard screams.  
"Hey!" Alex screamed down. "I promised you to tell you when she woke up!"  
The screams of her fans became louder and louder and Tarja's eyes teared up.  
"My fans ... are here?"  
"Some of them waited. Those who didn't have to leave immediately. They've been waiting for two days."  
"Wow..." Tarja said. "Alex, grab my phone and take a picture of them."  
"That's my Tari, the social media addict," Alex chuckled quietly and did what his boss had told him. He took a picture of her cheering fans and gave it to her.  
"Aww," Tarja said. About fifty cheering fans. Some of them were holding banners.  
Get well, Tarja!  
We love you, Tarja!  
"I'll post this," she decided and Alex laughed.  
"What did I just say?"  
"Social media addict," Kevin said with a grin and the singer rolled her eyes.  
But she smiled. She smiled as she posted the picture of her loving fans. She had never felt that happy ... at least not recently.  
She was safe. She and Naomi were safe ... And so was Carla. Even Carla was here.

A week later she returned to Kitee.  
Her head was still wrapped with a white bandage, in her suitcase was a little bag with painkillers. She was pulling the suitcase with her right and holding Naomi's little hand with her left hand.  
Home, sweet home.  
Tarja smiled as she pulled out her keys, the new keys to her new home. Her father had looked for one for her and Naomi, had rented it and brought the keys to the hospital.  
"Are you excited?" Tarja asked gently and lifted her daughter up.  
"I'm tired," the girl sighed. "And kinda sad."  
"Oh, baby." Of course she was sad. She had asked for her father non stop. Tarja hadn't told her the truth yet, that her father was in jail. "Everything will be better."  
She unlocked the door and pulled her daughter and the suitcase inside. To the elevator. "Second floor," she mumbled. She had begged her father not to rent a flat on the fourth floor, if one existed.  
"Second," Naomi replied and pressed the button that said "2".  
For just a few seconds they drove, then they got out. Tarja walked to the door which said "5". That one was theirs. Teuvo had already placed a shield on the door, Tarja and Naomi Turunen.  
Tarja was touched. She tried to insert her keys into the lock - as the door went open slowly. Huh? The door hadn't been locked!  
Tarja hold her breath. "Namu, stay behind," she mumbled and kicked the door open.  
There was no sound. No - there was a sound! Murmurs. Out of the living room.  
Slowly she went around the corner and shrieked -  
People!  
Teuvo, Toni, Timo and Sirja.  
Tarja couldn't believe it.  
"Welcome!" all of them shouted.  
"Oh my god! You scared the shit out of me!" Tarja laughed loudly.  
She went to her family and friend and hugged them.  
Timo kissed her cheek. "There's someone else waiting for you," he said.  
"He wants to talk to you."  
"He?" Tarja's heart stopped for a moment. But Timo was smiling, pointing at the kitchen. Tarja swallowed, told Naomi to play with her uncles, and walked to the kitchen.  
The dark haired man was leaning against the counter, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his eyes on the floor.  
As Tarja entered, he lifted his head.  
"I knew you'd come back," he said quietly; his blue eyes meeting her green ones.  
"Depends on how you mean 'coming back'," Tarja replied, a light smile on her lips.  
Not forgotten. But forgiven.

\--- the end ---


End file.
